


Live a Little

by ninchannie



Series: Maid Café AU [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Hair, Bottom Kim Seungmin, Boys in Skirts, Chan is 30, Chan is in love and panicked, Chan is messy, First Time Bottoming, Flirting, Happy, M/M, Maid Cafe, Playing Footsie, Seungmin in a maid dress, Seungmin is 22, Seungmin works as a maid in said café, Spit Kink, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Top Bang Chan, also very dumb but what's new, doing taxes but make it sexy, healthy safe sex discussions between adults that are aware of risks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninchannie/pseuds/ninchannie
Summary: All Chan’s mind screams is Seungmin.The Seungmin that is watching him over the counter.Seungmin with his glittery cheeks and blue contact lenses and Seungmin without.He’s just so much, all of him, all of his versions and Chan doubts he will ever be the same if he doesn’t get to have him.Not in a sexual sense, not solely. It’s a matter of being, of existing in a space that has Seungmin completely. Not just on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays in his maid uniform, but each and every day, in soft hoodies and without the glitz and glam. Chan needs to have him. All of him.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin
Series: Maid Café AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095083
Comments: 21
Kudos: 288
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	Live a Little

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt 55:
> 
> Character A works at a maid cafe where he must crossdress. Character B is a lonely working soul and finds solace in a cute little cafe that he usually passes by on the way home from work.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this piece! I really liked how it came out~

Just a few days after celebrating his five-year anniversary at the company he used to dream of working at, Chan decides it's time for him to change things up. Time to live a little, if you will.

Now, other people in this stage of life might do something like skydiving or an adventure trip to somewhere far away, to fulfil that wish. Some would maybe try and relive their partying habits from uni or hook up endlessly with people on one of those new sketchy dating apps. But Chan isn't like others.

For him, switching up his daily goodnight ramyun brand would be _daring._ Downloading an app and actually talking to someone on there? Unthinkable.

He has lived in the same tiny apartment ever since he moved into the city centre after graduating. He still falls asleep on the same slightly too-soft mattress, uses the same laundry detergent he found fit for him at age eighteen. He still watches the same porn and is still as lazy when trying to hook up.

In short: Chan is really not the person to go skydiving to _live a little_.

His escape comes on the same walk he takes to the station every day. On the street that has stayed the exact same for the past five years in which he rushed back and forth on it twice a day, five times a week, except on the holidays.

It stayed the same with only small changes, barely noticeable. New markings on the street in fresh white paint, a rebranded sign for the corner shop. It stays the same, at least superficially, until it suddenly doesn’t.

The tar is still a dull grey, the houses still towering tall and crumbling at the corners, and suddenly there is a bright pink neon sign lighting up the blandness of a Wednesday morning. A sign that definitely has not been there the week before, or any of the times Chan walked by this exact empty storefront. Just that it isn’t empty anymore.

That fact alone sparks Chan’s interest enough to make him slow down his hectic pace towards the station, exactly three minutes and fourty-seven seconds left to catch his train. He has his schedule timed down to perfection.

In glowing neon letters, it says ‘メイドカフェ’, and with the last pathetic blurbs that are left of his elective Japanese 101 class in his second year of uni, Chan picks the katakana apart as _Maid Café_. Not the most inventive name, surely, but why would it need invention, when the whole place screams _kawaii_ , even out onto the sidewalk, where a big pink bunny mascot is handing out flyers to the pedestrians passing by.

Chan let’s himself be carried by from the constant flow of stressed people around him and grabs one of the pastel coloured papers mindlessly, scanning over it and acknowledging the opening deal of ‘buy-a-warm-drink-and-get-a-free-polaroid-with-a-maid-of-your-choice’. Not the most flowing title for the deal, but Chan guesses that it works well enough.

Even in the stress of walking down the sidewalk extra fast to make up the six seconds he lost, he realizes that the concept of maid cafes apparently didn’t change much, if at all, since the time he last visited one. He was still in his teens, on his one-week weeb trip to Tokyo. The wording of the menu on the flyer definitely reminds him of the same strange yet cute mess it was back then.

In the usual trot of work – that he gets to right on time thanks to his outstanding scheduling habits – Chan actually forgets about the flyer stuffed into the inside pocket of his blazer over the day. Even the obnoxious, attention-seeking storefront is erased from his memories, until the train he’s in on his way home, zooms into his station and the pink light shines brightly through the dark greys of the evening.

After getting off, he doesn’t get his usual coffee from the cheap vending machine in the station, and instead decides to walk straight home, which conveniently leads him right past the pink and purple pulsing mess of the maid café. He feels almost dizzy from the bright colours and lights, slowing down just outside to take it all in. There sure is _a lot_ to take in.

The door and window frames show the same light pink colour the bunny mascot was in the morning, and there are rainbow coloured footprints drawn on the concrete right in front of the entrance, seemingly with the chalk that kids use to play games with on the street. It somehow manages to get that look of do-it-yourself charm across, despite the completely artificial concept of maid cafes. 

Even through the obnoxious stickers on the windows, cats and puppies and bunnies alongside adorable chibi-versions of maids, Chan can see that the cafe is well visited, be it due to the incredible opening deal or the sudden strange attraction in the business quarter. A pastel pink cafe is not at all what you expect to find between the surrounding bleak towers of banks and offices. 

Chan tells himself that it’s the crumbled piece of paper he can suddenly all too palpably feel through the fabric of his jacket, that makes him gravitate towards the door. That it’s the deal of the decade – a warm drink _and_ a polaroid – that makes him cross the sidewalk in quick strides. He tells himself that it’s definitely not the cute woman in full maid uniform, light blue cat ears perched on her head, that makes him choose a seat. 

“Welcome to _Meido Café_ ,” she begins in a sweet voice and a heavy Japanese accent, once he sits down. 

Just like in the unsayable anime Chan used to love, she curls her hands into little paws and holds them next to her head before _Nya-Nya-_ ing like she came straight from Chan’s dreams. “It’s kitty-cat Monday!” She explains excitedly and pulls a paper cat-ear headband from her white frilly apron to place on Chan’s hair. 

It reminds him that yes, it _is_ Monday, and that yes, Chan _has_ to stand up early for the four following days.

If he stays in the cafe until it closes at ten and leaves more money than he made his whole workday, then that’s completely his business. And if he buys the golden membership card, three extra polaroid pictures and learns the names of all the maids suspiciously quickly, then that’s his problem as well.

-

Chan is exactly seventeen days away from his thirtieth birthday – yes, as for everything, he has a timer for this too – when he decides that he might even have to live a little _more_ more. Because becoming one of the most frequent visitors at a completely pastel maid café, apparently isn’t enough.

Visiting the explosion of adorable pinks, sugary sweets and pure kawaii goodness has become a semi-weekly tradition at this point. Chan knows each and every maid, has inside jokes with all of them respectively and talks to them about more than he does with his friends. Which, that _does_ sound somewhat sad and a lot problematic, but also, it resulted in Chan feeling happier than he did in a long time.

He alone probably left enough money there, for them to invest in some more maids. To lift the stress off of Lucy’s, Sumiko’s, Rena’s and Yuna’s shoulders. They certainly seem happier to see him, than most other guests, which Chan takes as more of an ego boost than he really should.

But that exact factor, is why Chan isn’t all that surprised, when Rena comes to him on yet another kitty-cat Monday, and excitedly asks Chan if he would be okay with being the new maids first customer. Of course, no one could say no to that, and certainly not Chan.

Living some _more_ , comes into Chan’s head again, when the new maid comes out of the backroom, of course in full attire, and Chan feels like he might anime-nosebleed to death if he doesn’t keep himself in check.

_Seungmin_ , as the cat-shaped tag on his chest says in hangul, katakana and English, is towering tall over Rena, probably even over Chan – which he supposes isn’t all that hard – and on the skinny side. Long legs seemingly reach down endlessly, elongated by the frilly white thigh high socks that only leave the tiniest peak of caramel skin to be seen under the hem of the dress.

It’s the same uniform that the others are wearing too, but somehow it looks so _different_ on someone like Seungmin, who looks anything than the other maids. The white apron is pulled tight around a waist so skinny, Chan thinks it would be prone to breaking, if the breeze would be too harsh.

_Oh, Chan will never be the same._

Instead of a cat’s, there are floppy, furry, golden puppy ears nestled into soft, brown hair, and on the right one, a tiny bell is hung, jingling with each step Seungmin takes towards Chan in those heart-buckle black loafers all the maids wear.

“Welcome to _Meido Café_ , I’m your puppy-boy Seungmin,” the new maid introduces himself, and his voice is pleasant and soft, music to Chan’s ears. He brings his hands up in front of his chest, curls them into little paws and _barks_. Chan is a goner already. “I’m the newest addition to the team, so please welcome me warmly.”

His smile is fake, absolutely and definitely revised in front of a mirror but somehow, it’s still _perfect_ , people-pleasing and saccharine sweet like someone would expect in a maid café. By blinking down all too prettily at Chan, Seungmin reveals his lids that are accentuated delightfully with a soft pink glitter, and only now does Chan realize there’s a tiny sticker stuck to his right cheek, in the form of a puppy head.

_And by_ god _, Chan will never be the same again._

He manages to stutter out a greeting and shakily bow his head for Seungmin to place the kitty-cat Monday, paper cat ears on, of which he already has about a dozen at home. It’s barely a second that Seungmin’s fingers touch his hair, but to Chan it’s as if time slows down only to amplify the miniscule touch.

When he looks up again, Rena is smiling at Chan with a glint in her eyes and a raised brow. “Seungminnie is here Monday, Wednesday, Friday,” she says and _winks_ at Chan, as if it’s not already enough that his cheeks are burning solely from Seungmin placing _cat ears_ on his head. “I’ll leave you two to it, if there’s anything you need help with, just ring the bell,” it’s directed at Seungmin as well as Chan, probably for the former to clear up any questions that could come up. “Oh, and Seungmin? Maybe don’t get him something hot to drink, his face is already red enough.”

And as if the universe wants to be especially cruel to Chan, Seungmin looks at him and cocks his head, puppy ears flopping on his head, before smiling almost evilly, certainly not fake like before. “I can bring you some ice if that helps,” he says, voice almost too sweet, and Chan can’t believe it’s only his first day working at the café. “Today we have vanilla, mango, bubblegum, taro and strawberry. I think the last would fit your skin tone _very_ well.”

_Yes, Chan is completely and utterly ruined_.

-

For Seungmin to work at the café is simultaneously the best and worst thing that could’ve happened to Chan. It’s the best, because coming into the café is even more exciting for him now. There’s a connection between them, an easy flowing communication and some teasing in just the right amount.

It’s easy for Seungmin to grow into his role as a maid, easy for him to be professional, but also to open up to Chan, who learns that the younger just turned twenty-two in his second week of working there. Chan gets him a puppy plushie, which is of course very cheesy, but definitely fuelled by the other maids slipping him notes with possible presents, alongside with expecting gazes.

Chan doesn’t really have a _choice_ and also, it’s just more than worth it when Seungmin cradles the golden retriever plushie to his chest and smiles so wide, Chan fears pure rays of the sun might just break right through his skin.

They talk more after that. About the café, unsurprisingly a _lot_ about dogs, and most importantly about themselves. Chan finds out that Seungmin is mainly a musician and a student when he feels up for it. That his parents aren’t too happy about it, but still got him a tiny condo to be able to live in the city.

He learns that in most regards, Seungmin is the complete opposite of Chan, spontaneous and more daring, not eating the same ramyun every night and certainly not afraid of online dating like Chan is.

One day he’s telling stories about how he met a long-haired dancer that became one of his closest frenemies – “We’re friends I guess, but good lord I hate that we are,” is how Seungmin explains it to Chan – and the next it’s about a soft, Australian person that made him almost too scared to even hold hands.

There are never pronouns, names. Nothing giving away any of Seungmin’s preferences, which only drives Chan _slightly_ crazy.

In more ways than one, it feels like even in those few hours they see each other when Chan comes in, Seungmin allows him a look into a world, a youth Chan never allowed himself to really have. Sure, he had his fun and he certainly didn’t hold back during uni when it came to _living a little_ , a phrase that makes Seungmin gag whenever Chan uses it, but he never strayed from the path he forced himself onto from a young age.

He’s not miserable, he tells Seungmin one kitty-cat Monday, but he’s also not happy. It hurts more to say that out loud, than Chan would like to admit.

“Maybe,” Seungmin answered, his voice wise as if he’s aeons beyond Chan. “Maybe you have to get out of your bubble. And I don’t mean to take a few days off and go hiking or whatever you boomers do. I just think that maybe… maybe life is too short to waste it with _not being miserable_. Maybe you should make it happy.”

It’s easy to see, why Seungmin is also one of the worst things that could’ve happened to Chan.

Because falling for a man nearly ten years younger than him, and a lot smarter, wasn’t something Chan ever thought would be a possibility. Certainly not over the span of just a few weeks. And yet he finds himself hurting from smiling so wide and with his heart beating out of his chest every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

-

It’s the first day of October, when Chan fucks up majorly at work, for the first time since starting there. Maybe thinking about the most sincere, dark brown eyes, slightly curly, fluffy hair and a smile so open it makes his chest ache, is not the best thing to do when sorting documents. Very, _very_ important documents.

Because Chan accidentally shredders a contract from a company overseas, with a signature he can’t just easily get back by getting an intern to drive somewhere and get it resigned. For the first time in over five years, Chan has to sit anxiously in front of his boss’s office for half an hour after work. And for the first time he’s yelled at for another fourty-five minutes.

It’s not an apology, nothing to make things _good_ again, when he stays for hours to finish double the work he usually does in a day. It’s really all he can do, because he fucked up and there’s nothing but waiting it out until the letter will arrive from overseas, with the freshly signed contract.

He gets out of work shy after ten, out of his station at ten thirty, hours after he usually gets there, and it’s almost creepy how empty the streets are, usually bustling with hectic people on their way to and from work. Not even the neon sign of _Meido Café_ is illuminated to brighten the street, or Chan’s mood, for that matter.

Keeping his head down, Chan walks past it without looking up once, feeling a pang in his chest just _thinking_ about having missed the happy faces of Lucy and Yuna, of Seungmin, on this sad Wednesday evening.

It’s the sound of metallic rattling and soft humming that makes him stop in his tracks as he walks past the small alley leading down the side of the building, somewhere he never really looked at before, dark and dirty like most of these kinds of alleys tend to be.

Chan stops because even over the distance, he can easily recognize that voice. He could probably recognize it in a line-up of thousands of people and over the sound of roughly seventeen trains driving past. Because maybe he listens to it a bit too closely. And thinks of it even more.

Peeking into the alley, it takes a few second for his eyes to adapt to the darkness, but sure enough a tall, skinny figure sets itself apart from the dull greys of the night, not enough for Chan to be able to see details, but plenty to confirm his suspicions.

Taking a few steps back into the curtain of light one of the lamps at the side of the pavement is providing, Chan clears his throat, in an attempt to not scare the other away in the creepy grimness of the evening. It must be frightening enough to close the café so late, certainly not a seemingly stalking presence needed to make that experience even worse.

“Seungmin?” Chan asks into the darkness carefully, his voice unnecessarily shaky.

The sound of clinking metal stops and Chan guesses Seungmin’s head is snapping into his direction, by the vague whiteish oval shape visible through the cloak of dark. Rattling the side door to the café a few times, Seungmin doesn’t answer until he’s sure the door is safely closed.

Carefully slowly he steps out of the alley and towards the illuminated circle of light in which Chan is standing. Only when his eyes adapt to the light and he recognizes the regular costumer, he relaxes and inconspicuously so – at least he hopes – slips his keys into his bag, which he began holding out in front of him like a weapon.

“Channie,” he answers with the nickname Chan is known as in the café, that is printed on his golden membership card. It sends a shiver through the older that doesn’t come from the chilly autumn breeze. “What are you doing here so late? We missed you today.”

“I, _uh_ , I had some trouble at work,” Chan says easily, or he tries to, because his chest contracts uncomfortably just thinking about his earlier fuckup. “I only got off now.”

“Oh, okay, well I hope that won’t become a regular thing,” Seungmin says and there’s a quality in his voice that makes Chan’s heart skip a beat, all awkward memories from work blown away. But then Seungmin follows it up with, “Lucy was missing her best paying customer,” and Chan feels red hot shame fill his cheeks at even _thinking_ someone like Seungmin would miss him. He’s just doing his job.

Chan is just a simple piece in Seungmin’s job. There’s nothing more between them than that, no matter how much that realization hurts.

He laughs it off, hopes that the contrast between the bright white of the streetlamp and the dim dark air around them is enough to not make his hurt all too obvious on his face. “Don’t worry, it was a onetime thing. _Definitely_ a onetime thing.”

“Good,” the other answers, smiling wide and bright and nearly mending whatever pathetic thing broke in Chan earlier. He points to the side then, into the direction Chan is heading. “You’re walking this way too, right?”

Chan nods, a bit breathless when Seungmin turns into the same direction and starts walking, looking back at him as if waiting for him to follow. He _is_ waiting for him to follow, Chan realizes after another embarrassing second, and he steps out of the halo of light to catch up with the younger.

“Do you live far away?” He asks when he reaches his side, not quite close enough for their arms to touch, but not too far either to not be able to feel the warmth and gravity going out from Seungmin.

They’re walking through a heavy darkness, lamps spotty in that certain street, so Chan concentrates on his feet more than he does on looking at Seungmin and trying to take in his features which are almost blurry in the greyscale of the night.

“Not too far,” Seungmin answers, strides long and solid, forcing Chan to take two in the time he takes one. “It’s a five-minute bus ride, but they don’t run this late, so I have to walk for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

“You’re walking that long, all alone, at this time of day?” Chan belatedly realizes how stupidly worried he sounds, when he is in no place, in no relation to Seungmin, to be allowed that kind of distress. So he adds, “I mean, not that I think you can’t protect yourself or anything.”

Seungmin chuckles and be it due to the safety of the night or the tiredness of the workday settling into his bones, it turns into a full-on giggle. It’s a different sound from the one he uses when he works, not forcedly cute – which is still _very_ cute – but just raw and unguarded. Real. And Chan really isn’t okay.

To make matters worse, Seungmin chokes on his answer for a few times and snorts on laughter and by god, _Chan is absolutely fucked_.

“Firstly, you sound like my mother,” he says when he finally catches his breath, only to nearly fall into another sparkle of laughter. “Secondly, and this is by far the more important point, so listen closely. If you’re worried about me going home alone, maybe you should accompany me, like the sweet gentleman you are?”

Of course, that’s the perfectly timed cue for Chan’s dumb Italian leather shoes to open and for him to trip over the shoelaces. Of fucking course.

He stumbles and barely catches himself from falling, glad that at least the streetlamps are decent enough to be placed far apart, to hide him crouching over to tie his shoes again, this time knotting them up twice just to make sure.

When he looks up, Seungmin is standing there, right next to him, tall and surely with an expression of pure amusement that the night is stealing the pleasure, or pain, from Chan to experience with his own eyes.

“I-I can, if you want that? If that isn’t creepy? That’s not weird, right? Because I’m like a client? A guest? Right? Is that weird?”

“Jesus, Channie, you’re rambling,” Seungmin says when they begin walking again, his voice however sweet. “We’re not a therapist and his client or something fucked up like that, and besides that, you’re just accompanying me to make sure I get home safely, nothing more.”

Chan takes a deep breath – honestly, he needs a lot of those – to try and calm himself. “You’re right, sorry I just… my day was a bit crazy. I’m not usually this awkward.” He’s pretty sure he is, but he’s certainly not going to let Seungmin know that.

Judging from the short bark of laughter from Seungmin, he doesn’t believe the older one bit. “From what I’ve heard from you, your workplace sounds – and I’m sorry to say it this dryly – it sounds boring. So please enlighten my world to corporate blandness and how it can be _crazy_.”

Despite the dread still sitting in Chan’s gut, Seungmin’s easy way of talking makes him feel slightly less miserable and he finds it almost enjoyable to speak the happenings of the day out, for someone else to hear and groan about with him.

He explains in great detail about how he gloriously shredded the contract as he follows Seungmin around corners and into sometimes smaller, sometimes bigger alleys and streets. How he got yelled at for an impressive number of minutes and how his boss didn’t even sound hoarse by the end of it.

Seungmin listens and only comments here and there, giving some input, some words of encouragement. Time passes quickly like this, a bit too quickly to Chan’s liking, when they turn another corner, this one finally with decent lighting, and Seungmin announces that they’re nearly there.

Almost unnoticeably, Seungmin slows his step, making it easier for Chan to keep up and dragging the last few minutes out they have together. They’re not even talking much anymore, mostly just walking and… quite honestly stealing glances at one another. And Chan _swears_ he doesn’t just imagine that Seungmin is answering his shy gazes.

It’s impossible to not look at Seungmin too, because outside of work, he makes the complete opposite of his maid demeanour, but no less enchanting.

He’s still wearing his maid uniform, the dress poking out from under an oversized, light blue hoodie that makes Seungmin look even slimmer. He lost the typical overknee socks however, and the clunky platform shoes, instead now wearing mismatched socks and Converse. 

He looks so _boy_ , it kind of makes Chan’s heart stutter. He sees himself from the past in this Seungmin, sees his past boyfriends in him. He just sees something that is so utterly his type – a term that he hates, hates, _hates_ to use, but that is the only one fitting here – it makes his palms feel sweaty and his fingers shake.

Seungmin looks boyish in the way he walks in those worn Converse, lanky and like his limbs are too big for his body. His hair is slightly unkempt, even fluffier than it looks with clips and bows put into it at the café. And there are those big glasses perched on his nose, slipping down sometimes and crooked at one side, as if they lived through a lot in their life.

He stops in front of a big complex and turns to Chan with a shy smile on his lips, different from anything he ever allowed to show in the café. His eyes are a wonderful, dark brown, not pink or purple like the contacts he puts in for work and Chan could _drown_ in them. He wants to. 

“We’re here,” Seungmin says, as if it isn’t starkly clear in the way he stopped in front of the illuminated entrance of the building. “Thank you for accompanying me, Channie.”

“You can call me Chan,” is what the other blurts out, eyes widening when he realizes. “O-or Channie, I like both.”

“Okay Chan… Channie. Have a good night.”

It comes unexpected when Seungmin moves forward and right into Chan’s space, wrapping his arms around him. It’s even more unexpected that Chan’s body answers automatically and hugs back, his own arms coming to rest around Seungmin’s middle, feeling the small width of his waist even through the giant hoodie.

Seungmin smells like boy too, Chan finds. It’s not the cookie, ice-cream, chocolate sweetness the whole maid café is filled with, not it is starkly different. It reminds Chan of fresh linen, when he presses his nose into the fabric of Seungmin’s hood.

Or maybe like someone who just ran around in a field of freshly mown grass, laying down on a soft blanket next to Chan, rolling on top of him, under him, mixing his scent with Chan’s very own perfume, his salty, musky odour.

And maybe (definitely) Chan is completely enchanted in that second the hug lasts, but this version of Seungmin might as well be his favourite.

-

Despite The Big Dreadful Fuckup at the beginning of the month, Chan is sent home half an hour earlier than usual on his birthday, a small bouquet of flowers in his arms. It’s the same one he got the last four years, from the corner shop next to their company headquarters where all bouquets always cost 6000 won. But it’s the thought that counts and he’s happy his boss is even talking to him again.

He arrives at the café earlier than usual, less people inside than when he normally gets there. Sumiko sees him and bows with a smile before her eyes widen at the sight of the bouquet in Chan’s arms and instead of taking him to a table, like the procedure should go, she turns around on her heels and _runs_ to where Seungmin and Lucy are prepping orders and cleaning up behind the counter.

Simultaneously their heads snap towards Chan again, up and down the length of his body, before they begin whispering wildly. Chan just stands there in the entryway, watching them debate (?), heatedly discuss (?), until Lucy eventually begins to furiously tap at the touchscreen monitor that works as both a register and a PC.

Sumiko and Seungmin come up behind her to look at the screen as well and all at once gasp, sigh and groan. Lucy is the first to move again, ducking behind the counter to do something Chan can’t see, as Sumiko pushes Seungmin into the direction of the entry, whispering something into his ear.

Almost awkwardly he walks towards Chan and bows like he usually does, coming up with his prettiest customer smile. “We’re honoured to welcome you here in _Meido Café_ on this wonderful day, Channie,” he says, nearly convincing enough to not seem like Sumiko just told him that sentence. “Happy Birthday!” 

Chan blushes, fingers tightening around the stems of his flowers. “You just had to look that up on the system, didn’t you?” He asks, to cover up his flustered state.

“I didn’t, Lucy did,” Seungmin explains as he leads Chan over to his favourite spot. His voice has gone back to normal, a state Chan much prefers over professional maid Seungmin. “I absolutely totally remembered your birthday.”

It’s a total lie and Seungmin doesn’t even try to hide it but still, Chan feels another heat rise up in his face and man, turning thirty apparently means having to get his blood pressure levels checked because all this blushing and heart racing can’t be healthy.

Thankfully, Lucy and Sumiko decide for that to be the perfect moment to barge in with a handful of confetti thrown over the table and a glittery party hat placed on Chan’s hair. They wish him a happy birthday in unison, before beginning to sing for him, which Seungmin only joins in after lots of grumbling.

“This was not in the job description,” he mumbles when they’re done, plucking a few stray pieces of confetti from his dress.

With an evil smile, Chan blinks up at him from his seat. “Oh come on, you’re a musician, you should take every opportunity you can get to do music.”

Sumiko and Lucy exchange a gaze, before taking a few steps back, urging Seungmin closer to the table. “We’ll let Seungmin tend to you if that’s okay,” Sumiko says, not even waiting for an answer, before sending the former a wink and disappearing behind him.

“The birthday special is a free hot drink to any item of the menu of your choice,” Lucy says, before winking as well, however at Chan. “Our maids are _not_ on the menu sadly.”

Chan doesn’t even have time to stutter out a response, before Seungmin is already telling him the daily specials, back to a somewhat professional level, despite the faint pink on his cheeks that does not come from blush or highlighter.

There’s a blue bow in his hair, right above his ear and the piercings there are matching perfectly in colour. The only thing slightly disrupting the cohesive look – not if you’d ask Chan – is the bright rainbow band wrapped around Seungmin’s wrist.

It makes Chan’s heart run, the beat echoing in his ears because really, imagining mutual attraction might be one of his strongest points and if there maybe, just maybe, is a slight chance that Seungmin would even be somewhat interested? That would be the most promising sign he has gotten in a long time.

He orders the unicorn cupcake and the mermaid special coffee, no clue what that even means, because he might have blacked out a little during Seungmin’s explanation, too occupied watching his lips move to form the words.

When his order is brought to his table, the cup is nearly overflowing with whipped cream and a glittery cookie in the shape of a fin is stuck into it. Seungmin places it down carefully, like his life depends on not shattering the perfect shape of the creamy dome.

The cupcake doesn’t look any less sugary, but Chan supposes he only turns thirty once and also he stands up early every morning for a reason, so he’ll just work out a bit harder the next day to work away any calories that might’ve been slightly too extensive.

Seungmin’s watchful eyes are on the bouquet of flowers before they come to rest on Chan’s face. “Are these from your wife?” He asks, his voice strangely distant, even for the reserved polite tone he uses on customers.

Chan raises his brows at him before wriggling his fingers next to his face, no sign of a wedding ring. “Do I look _married_ to you?” He asks with a grin that seems to calm Seungmin down somewhat.

“Okay then, Channie, let me rephrase,” Seungmin says, sighing dramatically. “Are these flowers from your girlfriend?”

Gulping Chan shakes his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says. “And I also don’t have a boyfriend.”

It’s a complete shot in the dark, an unnecessary thing to add if he was just a customer trying to make smalltalk. But he’s not, and he hopes, sincerely and utterly _prays_ , that he didn’t read whatever they have between them completely wrong all these weeks in which they’ve grown closer.

There’s a second of reluctance before Seungmin speaks up. “Good for you,” he says, not quite meeting Chan’s eyes with his. “Because those look sad.”

“I guess that’s what I get for fucking up at work.” _Or simply for working at this kind of company_ , Chan adds in his head.

“Wait, you have to work on your birthday?” Seungmin asks, looking shocked. “That sucks, Channie.”

It’s a good thing for them to fall into their usual kind of talking this quickly after Chan dropping his relationship status so unceremoniously on Seungmin. He hopes that means he didn’t fuck up completely.

“At least I got some flowers out of it,” Chan answers with a smile that looks like he got a new car or at least a phone or something, not some nearly dead, cheap flowers.

“Touché, I guess,” Seungmin replies, fiddling with the frills on his apron. “I never got flowers before.”

Chan doesn’t even blink before blurting out, “You can have them.”

He doesn’t know what he wants and deserves more, for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, or for some kind of cosmic force to appear and slap him square across the face. Maybe Seungmin should do that actually, but Chan would probably like that a bit too much.

Seungmin chokes on air and has to stop himself from erupting in a fit of giggles. “Channie, dear. I don’t think that’s how _birthday_ flowers are supposed to work. And also, if you’re going to get me flowers, I want pretty ones.”

There’s a definite invite in there. There simply _has_ to be. But Chan has lived through one too many disappointments when it came to him misinterpreting signals that apparently were never meant a signals, so he tries to ignore it.

“Can you be more polite?” he jokes. “I’m kind of close to the manager here and I doubt she’d be happy about hearing her employee talking to customers like this.”

“Oh yeah? That’s very interesting, Channie, I’m very close to here too and I doubt she’d even believe a word you say.” He winks at him, just cute and jokingly, witty, but good _lord_ , Chan needs to get his body checked up because this newly acquired heart racing really isn’t it.

“I can’t believe I’m talked to like this on my birthday.”

“Oh Channie,” Seungmin says, voice faux-sweet. “I think you want me to talk even naughtier. Anyway, I will leave you to your birthday feast before your coffee gets cold.”

Seungmin is gone before the words even register in Chan’s brain. Much less even the meaning. Naughty. Naughtier. _Naughtier_? Seriously, he can’t just be imagining this flirting, right?

With trembling fingers, Chan begins to eat his cupcake and drink the mermaid coffee. It all just tastes like sugar, making his tongue tingle from the sweetness, but it doesn’t even register when all he can think of is Seungmin and the possible meaning behind his words.

Him in his maid dress and those stupidly adorable accessories. Him in that gigantic hoodie and smelling like all of Chan’s wet dreams he had since he was fourteen. Seungmin being so much younger, so fucking different in everything he does, with his big dreams and easy-going attitude while Chan works his life away in the most bland, boring company he can even think of. All his mind screams is Seungmin.

Seungmin, Seungmin, _Seungmin_.

The Seungmin that is watching him over the counter, talking to Lucy as he dries off a tall, pastel pink glass. Seungmin with his glittery cheeks and blue contact lenses and Seungmin _without_. He’s just so much, all of him, all of his versions and Chan doubts he will ever be the same if he doesn’t get to _have_ him.

Not in a sexual sense, not solely. It’s a matter of being, of existing in a space that has Seungmin completely. Not just on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays in his maid uniform, but each and every day, in soft hoodies and without the glitz and glam. Chan needs to _have_ him. All of him.

He knows he could treat Seungmin well. He’s learned, from all of his past mistakes that he made with Jackson, Minho and Juyeon. Hell, maybe he’d still make mistakes but he’s ready now, to face his own emotions and weaknesses, to be better. Chan can communicate now and from how he’s gotten to know Seungmin, he is well aware just how good at talking things out the younger is.

They’d be good, or maybe they wouldn’t be, who the fuck even knows. The only thing Chan _does_ know is that he needs to try. Somehow, he needs to get over himself and over his past experiences and traumas. He has to _try._

Words reach his ears then and when he looks up, he sees Seungmin making his way over with Lucy basically pushing him forward.

“Come on, just ask him,” she says insistently. “I’m sure he won’t be angry at you at all.” There’s that wink again, directed at Seungmin, as if all the maids know more than Chan, than even Seungmin, knows just yet.

“Ask me what?” He manages to get out, when they’re closer to his table. His heart is beating, _punching_ in his chest, like it needs a desperate escape from this pressure. Because what could Seungmin possibly have to ask of him? It can’t be what Chan is hoping, wishing for, definitely not, but Chan’s heart seems to think differently.

“Our cute Seungminnie needs help with his taxes and some paperwork like that,” Lucy says, cruelly trampling down even the slightest crops of hope that bloomed in Chan’s chest.

Oh.

Seungmin pouts at her before looking at Chan apologetically. “I swear I didn’t want to ask you here, but my parents weren’t a very big help over the phone, so I told Lucy and well… now we’re here.”

As if on cue, Lucy takes her leave with an excuse to tend to another table, leaving Chan and Seungmin in an awkward silence, the air around them loaded with a tension that never existed between them before.

“What makes you think I’m versed with how to do taxes?” Chan asks, forcing a smile to try and seem normal. _Please let it go back to normal_ , he begs inside.

Cocking his head, Seungmin looks him up and down. “ _Uhh_ , you always wear a suit?”

At that, Chan can’t help but break out into a real smile, the tension between them slowly cracking away. “You mean because I wear a suit, I know how to do taxes?” He asks, just to make sure and also to rub it in just a little.

It seemingly works when Seungmin huffs exaggeratedly and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “So you don’t?” He asks, something knowing in his eyes.

Sighing, Chan admits defeat. “Okay, you’re right, I _do_ know how to do taxes.”

He tries to not stare too obviously when Seungmin grins in self-satisfaction and jumps up and down like an excited puppy. In a try to stop himself, Chan takes a sip of his mermaid coffee, obnoxiously big, to avoid embarrassing himself. He’s already doing that enough.

When he looks up, Seungmin’s smile is gone and replaced with something intense that seeps right through Chan’s clothes, skin, down to his bones. “You got something on your… let me just-“

Seungmin comes closer and reaches forward to wipe some cream off of the corner of Chan’s mouth, that he must’ve acquired by his avoidance tactic. He wants to thank him, but then Seungmin doesn’t bring the finger to his apron to wipe the cream off, no, because apparently the universe hates Chan and wants to make him _suffer_ , Seungmin brings it to his own mouth and promptly licks it clean.

The first thought shooting through Chan’s head is something so unsayable, so desperate and _horny_ it actually scares him a little. The second thing is that that probably isn’t the most hygienic or smart thing to do as a waiter. He hopes no one saw, that this magical little moment will just be kept between Seungmin and him.

For the rest of his stay, Chan makes sure to lick his lips clean thoroughly and to not choke on a sip whenever Seungmin as much as looks his way.

-

They make a date for that same weekend, which Chan has to actively remind himself is _not_ a date. It’s just him being a helpful adult and teaching someone about the confusing world of taxes. Just him coming over to Seungmin’s condo, where the younger has all of his documents, and nothing more than that.

It’s a little hard to talk it down like that, to say the least.

Chan finds himself being a little (a lot) thorough in the shower, using body scrubs and ointments he got for Christmas and never found the perfect time to use before. As if that’s not enough, he also gets a bit too into washing himself, feeling slightly lose and just enough loopy as he makes his way to Seungmin’s place.

Smelling a lot like woods and amber, Chan feels just a little awkward and overdressed as he walks into the complex, following the vague directions Seungmin told him in the café. _Take the left stairs to the third floor and then go all the way down the hallway there and ring the bell for number five._

It sounded a lot like those riddles in escape room games and upon seeing Chan’s confusion Seungmin was kind enough to write it on a little, pink sticky note for Chan, drawing a cute puppy next to it.

Following the directions scribbled in messy handwriting, Chan comes across three people. One of them is only wearing underwear and carrying a giant basket of laundry. The other two are making out against the wall of a skinny hallway, which Chan has to awkwardly shuffle past.

The whole complex seems to be crumbling and falling apart, a strange metallic scent hanging in the air and Chan feels dumb for having chosen to wear his best white button-down, his tightest black jeans, when everything about the place just screams of a mix of cheap student housing and casual serial killer.

He finally arrives at the strange mechanical _something_ that is supposed to be the bells for Seungmin’s floor and rings on number five. There’s a crackle, then a beeping sound loud enough to not only startle Chan but also the enamoured couple, that shuffles further away down the hallway at the sound.

The door in front of Chan springs open a centimetre and he pushes it open under loud, screeching protest of the hinges. Almost scared, he peeks into the windowless hallway behind, only ignited by almost greenish LED fixtures on the ceiling.

At the very end of the hallway, a door opens and Seungmin peaks his head out.

Chan might as well get cruelly killed in this scary building but seeing Seungmin’s face would resurrect him countless of times. He’s just poking his head out there, hair almost curly but not quite, and those giant glasses perched on his nose and Chan almost trips over his feet trying to get to him quickly.

He’s a little breathless when he finally reaches the end of the hallway and stands in front of Seungmin, who retreats to hide behind his door. It should be the first warning signal for Chan, but all enamoured by brown eyes and a soft smile he completely ignores it.

“Hey,” he greets, catching his breath.

“Hi,” Seungmin says, similarly shallow as Chan feels with his heavy breathing. “Come in.”

Chan does and ignores the second warning sign – Seungmin completely wrapped up in a fluffy blanket – because he’s too distracted by the condo. It’s just a room, really, tiny and with only one small window allowing natural light inside.

It’s still cosy, certainly thanks to Seungmin’s decorating skills. The bed is drowned with pillows, plushies and blankets, pushed into one corner of the room and taking up a good fourth of it. The kitchen looks close to falling out of its hinges, but even that Seungmin managed to make look _cute_ with stickers and fairylights.

There’s a desk under the small window, barely big enough for two people, but Seungmin managed to put two chairs there, seemingly for them to work at. Or well, one chair and one poufy beanbag of sorts, in the vague shape of a Snorlax, but a Snorlax that lived through some dire times.

“It’s not a lot,” Seungmin says, following Chan’s gaze. “I still think it’s a way of my parents to try and get me to stop pursuing music, but hey, it’s warm in the winter and has all I could need.”

“I’m definitely not judging you,” Chan quickly assures. “I lived in a very nasty dorm when I was your age and this place is luxury compared to that.”

“You sound like an old man, Channie,” Seungmin says with a grin, turning to grab two glasses from a cupboard. “Do you want to drink anything? I really only have water to offer though.”

“Water is perfect, thank you, and compared to you I _am_ an old man.” He takes the glass Seungmin hands him after filling it, and follows the other to the desk, sitting down on the chair after Seungmin flops onto the poor Snorlax. He nearly spills water on himself, blushing as he places the glass on the desk after. Chan follows his lead.

“You know, personally I think it’s a matter of attitude,” Seungmin begins, getting back to their earlier topic, after pulling the blanket even tighter around himself. It’s getting slightly suspicious now, because it’s certainly not _cold_ in the room. “You can be the thirty-years old Chan that works at the most boring company in the world or you can be the Channie that loves people in maid outfits and pink cupcakes. And you can be both.”

For a few seconds, Chan just sits there almost dumbfounded, before finding the strength to talk again. “You always sound so wise Seungmin. You know exactly what to say.”

“See? And that doesn’t make me any year older than fresh and crispy twenty-two.” He shuffles closer, hopping with the beanbag seat until he’s right by the table as well, sitting slightly lower on the poufy Pokémon than Chan on the chair. 

Bending forward, Seungmin plucks out a few documents, bent at some corners and with stains on them that make Chan’s inner bureaucrat _cry_. But he doesn’t comment on it and instead immerses himself into the matter.

They get about five minutes into Chan explaining Seungmin why what document and paper is important and what he should do with each one, before the younger huffs and sits back, plucking at his fingers almost nervously, that barely stick out from under the blanket.

“You remember when you brought me home the other day?” He asks out of the blue, waiting for Chan to nod. As if the older could ever forget about that, about the way Seungmin looked, talked, _existed_ that night. It’s what he mostly thought about since then. “I was kind of joking back then and didn’t expect you to _actually_ accompany me. But I’m very glad you did, because it was my first time closing the café alone and stuff and maybe I was more scared than I kind of want to admit.”

Chan is stunned for a second, his hearting jumping up into his throat and he almost drops the pen he’s holding. He looks at Seungmin, intently in a way he was too scared to before. There’s a bead of sweat sitting on the younger’s temple, his skin almost glowing.

“You’re warm,” Chan states the obvious. “Why are you wrapped up in a big blanket when you’re obviously hot?” He’s aware he’s not answering Seungmin on what he said, but if the tension leaving Seungmin’s form is anything to go by, the other might actually be happy about that.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Seungmin mumbles, nearly too quiet for Chan to hear.

But then his mind is taken up by something else completely when Seungmin unwraps himself like he’s a fucking Christmas present. The fluffy fabric is peeled away and reveals smooth, tan skin, slender arms that peak out of a garment that should be more than familiar to Chan.

He’s wearing the maid dress from his job, just that it must’ve been altered, because the blouse than Chan thought was a part of the dress is missing and makes it an almost scandalous piece of clothing leaving not much to the imagination.

Seungmin’s shoulders are _out_ , his collar bones on full display and Chan feels like he is seeing another man naked for the first time. Just that Seungmin isn’t even naked and that they’re not in a position where he is even allowed to think into that direction.

They’re doing taxes of all things. _Taxes_. There’s not a lot that’s less sexy than taxes, Chan thinks.

Ever the charmer, Chan stares for way longer than he should stare. From Seungmin’s revealed neck, to his smooth legs where they are coming out of the frilly skirt of the dress. He belatedly realizes how his mouth dropped open, before he closes it to swallow the abundance of wetness in his mouth.

He takes a sip of water.

“Why are you in your uniform?” He asks, his voice sounding like someone else’s entirely.

Sighing dramatically, Seungmin lowers his head and looks at Chan through his lashes, painting a picture of pure innocence if it wasn’t for the fucking _maid outfit_. “My regular clothes are in the wash…”

Chan throws a short prayer at any willing god into the universe, to please _spare him of this torture_. Seungmin _must_ do this on purpose. He simply _has_ to.

“Seungmin, you’re telling me,” Chan begins, trying to calm his breathing. “You’re telling me that _all_ your clothes are in the laundry, except for you maid dress.”

Instead of answering, Seungmin bites his bottom lip until it turns white under his teeth. Then something touches Chan’s shin and slowly makes its way upward, warm and a steady pressure and it makes Chan’s skin tingle in the _good_ way.

This is something Chan hasn’t experienced in a long time, someone else touching him, not even in a way that is deliberate like fingers are, but experimental and intense like Seungmin’s foot and ankle rubbing its way up his leg.

“Don’t judge me, Channie, I’m trying to flirt here,” Seungmin says, his voice almost husky. He’s leaning back now, raising his leg up to be able to run the very tips of his toes along the angle of Chan’s knee. “Is this okay?”

Now, Chan isn’t into feet per se, but this isn’t about that at all. It’s delicate and new, careful in the way Seungmin is barely touching him, playful in the way he’s smiling at him with a glint in his eyes. Chan never nodded quicker.

“You know I wasn’t sure where we stood until just a few days ago,” Seungmin says nonchalantly, foot crawling up higher and higher on Chan’s legs, almost ticklish on his thigh. “You were so… so _you_. With your prim and proper suit and your mature politeness. It was a bit annoying really, because you were so _flirty_ , but then I thought to myself that there’s no way you are into men.”

“R-really?” Chan breaths out, breath hitching when Seungmin toes his way in between his legs, prompting him to spread them apart. “It’s f-funny, because I was wondering the same. If it’s just me imagining things, or if there really is something between us.”

“Oh, I think there is,” Seungmin says and smiles even wider before bringing his foot down flat over Chan’s crotch, pressing the pad of it down when he feels Chan involuntarily buck up against him. “I think it’s big and hot and _hard_.” He accentuates his words with an almost pornographic whine.

Chan groans, throwing his head back and running his palms over his face in a try to calm himself. “You’re really making a dick joke right now, I can’t _believe_ you.”

There’s no answer, instead Seungmin curls his toes a bit over Chan’s length, making him shudder. When he’s brave enough to look forward again, Seungmin’s gaze is intense. His long fingers are playing with the hem of his dress and when he sees Chan’s eyes following the movement, he spreads his legs apart and brings the fabric up just enough to reveal what lays underneath.

And that is not a whole lot.

Because Seungmin is completely naked under his uniform. _Completely_ _naked_.

Chan has perfect view of him, of his balls that are small and cute, barely hanging over his perineum. He’s even more tan there, as everyone is, and Chan feels his mouth water when his eyes stray down further. Seungmin looks tight and perfect, his rim fluttering from the way his legs are spread apart.

“You’re quite oblivious Chan, so I think I have to make it obvious.” Seungmin’s voice is almost innocent, casual in comparison to his long, slim fingers hiking up the dress even more, until his whole cock is freed in all its glory, curling up prettily against his stomach.

Chan’s jaw drops again, his tongue lolling out because he hasn’t seen a cock this _gorgeous_ in a long time. He hasn’t seen a cock in a long time, full stop. Other than his own of course, which is just such a sad thought given that he could’ve had Seungmin for weeks now if it wasn’t for his cowardice.

But even now, not all of that has left him. “Make it obvious?” he asks. “Make what obvious, Seungmin?”

Groaning frustratedly, Seungmin rolls his eyes hard enough for his head to fall back against the beanbag. He pounds it against the soft fabric a few times, because how in the world can a person be this oblivious, ignorant, or plain out dumb? He isn’t even sure which one of these fits Chan best.

“Channie, please,” he begs, not for him to move on and do something, but to spur some thought in his cute little head. “I want you. I want us to fuck, isn’t that clear?”

Chan gulps, looking up from Seungmin’s middle to make sure of his sincerity. Sure enough, only eagerness and excitement are prominent on his features, no ounce of doubt to be found. Silently thanking the universe, Chan gently takes Seungmin’s leg by the ankle and places it on the floor, almost whining when the sweet pressure leaves his crotch.

He slides off of the chair and falls to his knees, crawling forward in between Seungmin’s spread legs. Chan has his goal in sight, long and flushed pink at the top, foreskin pulled back slightly to reveal Seungmin’s glistening tip. His mouth waters.

“I want to suck you off,” he says, his voice a deep timbre with how aroused he is. He can feel Seungmin’s legs tighten at his sides, shaking slightly. Chan’s hands come to his skin immediately, almost cold under his hot palms and the older runs them over Seungmin’s knobby knees and his thighs and then down again, as if to warm the skin up.

“You can. _Fuck_ , you totally can,” Seungmin all but moans. “I’ve wondered how your lips would feel on me, Channie. You’ve got such a pretty mouth.”

Chan nearly chokes on his own spit, head falling to the side until he’s resting against the softness of Seungmin’s thigh, lips lax and softly mouthing over the skin. There’s nearly no hair there, but it doesn’t seem prickly, like Seungmin made an effort shaving, just that he doesn’t have a lot. It’s a big contrast to Chan’s own body, and he dearly hopes Seungmin won’t mind.

Slowly, he kisses his way upwards, nipping and mouthing on Seungmin’s skin until tiny red marks are blooming in Chan’s wake. He just reaches the sensitive space between Seungmin’s thigh and his groin, Chan’s cheek close enough to nudge against Seungmin’s cock, when the younger threads his fingers into Chan’s hair and pushes him off.

“I-I have to grab condoms,” he says shyly, nodding into the direction of his bed.

Sitting back on his knees while keeping contact with Seungmin by leaning against his right leg, Chan smiles at him gently. “Do you have anything?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the side of Seungmin’s knee. “It’s okay for me, I won’t run away.”

Seungmin shakes his head, shameful blush high on his cheeks. “I don’t think I do, but I haven’t gotten tested in a while.”

“Have you had unsafe sex with someone who could’ve had anything?” Chan’s fingers knead soothingly at Seungmin’s thighs.

Again, a shake of head. “I always used condoms, but I want to make sure that you know I haven’t been checked.”

Chan sits up a bit on his knees, crawling forward until he can push himself up to be on eyelevel with Seungmin. He gently places his hands on each side of Seungmin’s face and looks deep into his eyes, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks at the sudden intimacy of it all.

“I trust you when you say that you were safe before, so I would love to suck you off without a condom, aware of any and all risks that come with it,” Chan says, running his thumbs along Seungmin’s cheekbones delicately. “But if that makes you uncomfortable, I’m more than happy to do it with a condom as well.”

A nervous breath leaves Seungmin, hitting Chan’s face with peppermint freshness. “Without then. If that’s okay.”

Smiling, Chan allows his eyes to fall to Seungmin’s lips, before they snap up to his eyes again. “Very okay,” he says, following the younger’s eyes when they fall to his own mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of an answer, Seungmin takes matters into his own hands – quite literally so – and reaches behind Chan to pull him closer by his hips, moving his head forward to catch him with his lips. Their mouths meet uncoordinated and messy, Chan gasping when they touch, but it quickly changes into something frantic and desperate.

Seungmin isn’t even too fond of kissing, but with Chan’s full lips he might find a liking in it, especially when the older sighs so prettily against him, giving Seungmin the perfect opportunity to suck Chan’s bottom lip into his mouth.

He runs his tongue over it, bites down until Chan shudders in his arms, until spit is running over their lips and making a mess of their chins. They only part to gasp for air, quickly finding each other again as if each second apart is a moment wasted.

Chan’s hands eventually fall back to Seungmin’s thighs, fingers pressing down and prying them apart further, sliding upwards and grazing over his perineum, his balls, barely touching his cock in a way that makes Seungmin whine and twitch in anticipation.

It’s with one of those whines that Chan pulls away completely – lips bitten red and swollen – to fall to his knees again, dragging wet lips against Seungmin’s skin until he reaches the hem of the dress over his hips, pushing it up with one hand to be able to see all of Seungmin’s skin.

He has freckles around his belly button, nothing more than peach fuzz on his stomach and even his pubic area is neatly trimmed, spots and red marks showing where he must’ve shaved completely in the past.

Chan wraps a hand around Seungmin’s cock, emanating a relieved sigh from Seungmin, who’s fingers immediately tangle back in Chan’s hair. The older kisses the marks razors left behind, not caring that the short hair scratches his chin and makes his skin tingle.

It’s a really, _really_ unfortunate thing how much Chan loves this and everything that surrounds sucking cock. To be real, it is only unfortunate when he has no one’s cock to suck, which sadly was the better part of the last years.

Now, having Seungmin so close, drowning in the familiar scent that’s layered right on his groin, that’s at the same time so unfamiliar because Seungmin is new and different, makes Chan feel giddy, his fingers trembling with excitement and his mouth watering enough for him to drool uncontrollably where he’s kissing Seungmin’s skin.

“You like this a lot, don’t you?” The younger asks, as if he can see right through Chan. Instead of an answer, the other just moans into Seungmin’s skin, nosing at the very base of his cock. “You’re just a little slut for cock, I would’ve never expected that.”

Chan takes his time answering, parting his mouth along the width of Seungmin’s cock and slowly licking his way up the shaft. He’s longer than Chan, not by a lot, but enough, and wider too. Thinking is getting harder and harder with each second, each inch passing.

When he reaches Seungmin’s tip, Chan runs his tongue around it in small circles, drooling more and more until he can easily slide under the foreskin and suck lightly on there for a second, to feel Seungmin’s fingers tighten in his hair.

“I really am,” he says, satisfied with himself at the title and the way Seungmin already looks completely blissed out. “But what _did_ you expect.”

Seungmin hums thoughtfully, which turns into a moan halfway through when Chan pulls his foreskin down and presses his lips over Seungmin’s tip, running his tongue through the slit.

“I-I expected you to either be super lame, probably letting your partner do all the work, or extremely kinky in ways I do not want to get deeper into.”

Humming, Chan opens his mouth wider to take Seungmin further, his slick mouth allowing an easy slide until the head of Seungmin’s cock hits the back of his throat, before Chan pulls off, a wave of drool following and running down his chin.

_Oh, he’s messy_.

“I like to pleasure my partners in any way I can,” he says, lips smacking with every word. “But I only really get crazy over this, always have.”

He goes back down on Seungmin again then, letting his jaw hang lax as he settles on a simple rhythm that takes his cock in as deep as Chan’s mouth can take, without using his throat. His tongue is curling around the shaft, pressing down in ways Seungmin doesn’t even know how they’re possible.

His nails are digging into Chan’s scalp, legs bending back until he has no leverage on the floor, solely sinking into the Snorlax beanbag and letting Chan move to his every desire. He has one hand on Seungmin’s hip, not even pushing down to keep him from thrusting up, but to squeeze in time with his moans that reverberate deliciously around Seungmin.

His other hand is playing with Seungmin’s balls, spreading some spit over the soft skin and squeezing ever so slightly to feel Seungmin twitch against his tongue. Chan sits back a bit and makes sure to look at Seungmin’s face, brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth agape in pretty moans, when he opens up further and takes him into his throat.

He might not have done such thing to a real person in a long time, but fingers or toys, it all feels good when he’s particularly horny, so it’s not like he’s out of practice.

Chan swallows around Seungmin easily on the second attempt, taking him down until his nose is pressed against the trimmed hairs at Seungmin’s base. It’s at that point, when the only sounds leaving Chan are lewd squelches and muffled moans, that Seungmin begins to ramble.

“N-no one ever did this to me, not like this,” he whines, throwing his head back when Chan’s eyes – closed in pleasure and diligence – snap open to look at him. He swallows him down fully, keeping his nose pressed against Seungmin’s skin as if to show him just how good it is, how hot and wet and tight he can be for him.

“Feels s-so good, I might come soon,” he continues, voice a trembling mess. “Can I? Can I come down your throat?” There’s a rasp from how high Seungmin’s voice turned, something new that he will have to try and incorporate into his singing.

As an answer, Chan pulls off somewhat to nod with Seungmin’s cock still in his mouth, drool running down his length and pooling at the base but Seungmin has no care left in the world about the mess that he might mind if it was anyone else, anyone less enthusiastic.

Pressing down on Chan’s head, keeping him low and from pulling off, Seungmin takes together all of his courage. “Chan… Channie, I want to- want to ask something,” he says, knowing that Chan is listening, when he stops all movements and just stays a hot and warm presence around Seungmin. “I want to… I want you to fuck me.”

Chan doesn’t pull off, just moans around Seungmin, which the younger takes as a positive answer.

“I just… I never bottomed before, not with a real person. I’ve fucked myself enough times with toys to know what it feels like though, is that… is that okay?”

He wishes Chan would just moan again and continue his task at hand, but this time Chan presses up against the grip Seungmin has on his head, pulling off with a wet plop when Seungmin drops his hands to his sides.

“Hey, no need to be nervous or anything,” Chan says, and his voice is completely ruined, rough and raw. “I bottomed before and I like it. You can fuck me if that’s what you rather want to do, there’s no need to feel like you have to let me top because I’m older or something.”

Seungmin shakes his head quickly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “The thing is that I want to, I just never… never felt good enough to let someone do it. But with you I-I want to try…”

Cursing, Chan lets his head rest against Seungmin’s lower stomach, nudging his cheek against his wet cock and making a complete mess of his face. The sight doesn’t help Seungmin’s predicament of being incredibly horny, teetering right on the edge, but simultaneously nervous for Chan’s reply.

“It kind of makes my heart race to know that you trust me this much,” Chan says, smiling like an idiot and it makes Seungmin’s heart flutter just a little. A lot actually, but he would never admit that. “I’ll take good care of you. ‘m gonna make you feel so good, Seungmin… and then I’ll fuck you even better.”

It takes a second too long for the words to compute in Seungmin’s brain, because before he can even reach a hand out to stop him, Chan is taking him back into his mouth, with even more fervour than before and Seungmin can do nothing more than curse out his arousal.

He bucks up against his own will and Chan takes him so easily, even when his throat makes these strange, wet sounds every time Seungmin fucks into him. Chan finds purpose on the side of Seungmin’s waist, steadying himself by pressing down into his soft skin, over his ribs, and that’s what pushes Seungmin over the edge with an embarrassing shout.

Chan keeps sucking him through it, milking every last drop from him before pulling off and promptly opening his mouth, presenting his tongue with some of Seungmin’s load still on it. It’s a habit from his relationship with Juyeon, and white-hot shame runs over him when he realizes that this is Seungmin he’s on his knees for, not his ex.

But Seungmin surprises him, albeit looking confused for half a second, before leaning forward and grabbing Chan’s chin. He turns his head left and right, watching closely as his mouth stays open, before nodding contently.

“You can swallow, Channie.”

Chan almost chokes from having to smile so wide, bending up after swallowing to press a kiss to Seungmin’s lips that’s a tiny bit more chaste. The younger sits there a bit perplex, watching curiously as Chan stands up to stretch his arms over his head, elbows cracking loudly.

Ignoring the sounds, Seungmin seizes the opportunity and falls to his knees, still feeling slightly lightheaded from his orgasm, but determined to make the other feel just as good. He can see the bulge in Chan’s trousers easily, a darker spot at the tip of his cock even, where the fabric is dampened.

Seungmin makes quick work of opening the button and zipper, pulling the fabric down to Chan’s thighs along with his underwear, freeing his erection. It springs up into the air, a deep red at the tip and it must’ve been hard enough to hurt, compressed by his clothing.

Blinking up at Chan, Seungmin runs his hands over Chan’s hip bones and underneath his dumbly crisp white shirt, feeling the curls of a happy trail under his belly button and a surprising hardness of abs that Seungmin did not expect.

He brings one hand down again while keeping the other on his stomach, bending Chan’s cock to the side so he can reach the dark, thick curls at the base of Chan’s cock. Seungmin noses there, maybe not as enthusiastically as Chan did, but still with passion. He drinks in the scent of salt and musk, heady enough to make Seungmin’s mind brim with a renewed wave of arousal, his cock stirring awake again.

The older stops Seungmin, when he wraps a hand around his length, not doing much more than holding it in his fist. Chan notices the furrow of brows and the confused look and smiles a bit flustered.

“If you want me to fuck you, you should probably stop.” He says, hoping his cheeks aren’t glowing a too bright pink.

The confusion on Seungmin’s expression turns into a self-satisfied smirk in a heartbeat. “What, did choking on my cock rile you up so much?”

With a groan, Chan simply pushes Seungmin’s hand away and takes a step back, opening his shirt button for button in hopes to distract himself as well as the younger. It’s not really his fault that he hasn’t been touched in so long… and that Seungmin has such a nice cock to suck.

Seungmin watches the stiff fabric slowly peel away, revealing abs he did not expect Chan to have, collar bones he wants to do unsayable things to and arms to worship, when Chan finally slips the shirt off completely, dropping it to the floor.

Grabbing it, Seungmin makes sure to smooth out the fabric before hanging it over the back of his chair, knowing he probably looks all kinds of strange going from on a position on his knees, to tidying up Chan’s clothes, all while wearing a maid uniform.

Ignoring Chan’s amused grin, he flops down on the bed on his stomach, reaching underneath the bedframe to pull out a box of tissues for later, a halfway used up bottle of lube and fumbling for the strip of condoms he ordered online because he was too awkward to simply go into a store.

When Seungmin finally finds it, he pulls it out like clowns pull out their endless handkerchiefs. Chan keeps that comparison to himself as he comes closer.

“You think these are enough?” He asks jokingly, when Seungmin finally seems to be done and places them down next to himself.

Clearly not catching on to the sarcasm, Seungmin looks at the dozens of condoms and then back at Chan with an unreadable expression. “I mean I hope so?”

Chan nearly chokes on his spit at the deadpan seriousness of the younger. “You’re clearly overestimating me.”

“What? Can’t keep up, old man?” Seungmin replies, one of his evil smiles on his lips that Chan isn’t sure if he loves or is completely petrified of.

“I think you’re the one who should be worried about keeping up,” he just says, winking at Seungmin before pulling his pants off completely until he’s fully naked, climbing onto the bed and over the younger, turning him onto his back with a purposeful hand on his shoulder.

Seungmin is still wearing the dress, feeling almost filthy when Chan drapes his body against his own, hard cock rubbing against the polyester fabric and making sure Seungmin hardens more and more by the second.

He feels slightly oversensitive, but he’s made himself came a lot more times in a shorter period of time and also, he _enjoys_ the sting, maybe a little too much. The new thing is however, that Seungmin realizes how his voice is changing too, turning more and more breathy, almost mewling sounds torn from his throat.

He desperately grabs onto Chan’s shoulders and pulls him down into a needy kiss, opening his legs for Chan to slip between and press his whole body against him. He’s all hardness and rough lines, disrupted by soft-yet-scratchy body hair and skin, plush lips tasting of salt and Seungmin in a way that should in no world be hot, but it _is_ and Seungmin wants it all.

In tiny motions, he grinds up against Chan, chasing that friction when his cock is back to full hardness, that pressure of fabric and lace and another man. Chan fills his mind, the man that was a stranger just a few weeks ago, that was no more than a customer and is now laying in his bed, _on_ him and soon will be inside of him.

With a trembly moan Seungmin has to pull away, Chan immediately latching on to his neck, nipping and biting, licking where he can reach. Seungmin has half a mind left to tell him, “N-no marks… can’t have bruises at work,” his whole body begging him to just shut up and let Chan do whatever he wants.

He just kisses his skin, grazes his teeth over it and sucks lightly to not make the redness last, just a momentary reminder that he’s there, right on Seungmin’s skin. That this all is his doing.

With his head bent to the side and his back arched, Seungmin grabs the lube with shaking fingers, a weak hand pushing at Chan’s shoulder until he pulls back and sits up, giving Seungmin space to flip up his skirt and bring his legs up to his chest.

He circles his hole a few times, delighted as Chan’s eyes darken even more at the sight of Seungmin’s long, slim fingers spreading lube over his rim. Seungmin has to shut his eyes when he pushes a first finger in, his body pulled tight from all the sensations and the excitement of what’s to come.

“What are you doing?” Chan asks, watching as Seungmin awkwardly rushes to get his fingers inside of himself. There’s a mole on his right butt cheek and Chan kind of wants to bite him there.

An almost distressed noise makes its way out of Seungmin’s mouth and he has to force his eyes open to look back at Chan. “Prepping myself? What else?”

“Oh Seungminnie,” Chan sighs, reaching out to gently coax Seungmin’s fingers out of him by reaching for his wrist. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

He reaches for a tissue from the box on the floor next to Seungmin’s bed, wrapping it around Seungmin’s sticky fingers, before grabbing the bottle of lube himself. Chan doesn’t immediately pump out some of the liquid however, instead bending forward to press kisses to Seungmin’s knees, taking some of the tension out of his body with the soft pecks.

“Just like that,” Chan praises in between touches of his lips, repositioning until he’s lying on his stomach, while pressing more kisses down the length of Seungmin’s thighs. He tries to inconspicuously open the lube, failing miserably when it squirts over Seungmin’s leg and the duvet instead of on his fingers.

It still helps Seungmin unwind when he has to giggle from the small accident, his muscles relaxing and mending him more comfortably against the mattress. Chan smiles against his thigh, finally managing to get the liquid onto his finger before rubbing it warmer.

“I’ll touch you now, okay?” He asks, feeling Seungmin breath in harshly.

“O-okay,” he answers, fingers travelling over the duvet to reach out and grab Chan’s free hand to intertwine their fingers.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to do this, I’m more than happy to do something else.”

“I know, Chan. Thank you,” Seungmin says, voice not really loud but in the silence of the room Chan can hear every word clearly. “I want this, I’m just… excited.”

Chan giggles against Seungmin’s skin. “Excited? You’re so goddamn cute, Seungmin.”

He brings his fingers to the younger’s skin then, just gently swiping them over his rim, feeling the muscle quiver under his touch. Seungmin brings his legs up higher and wraps his free arm around them, keeping himself spread open.

Like this Chan easily works a first finger in, groaning at the tightness around the first few centimetres of his finger changing to the pure heat inside of Seungmin, soft and snug. He doesn’t thrust his finger when he’s completely inside, instead rubbing it along Seungmin’s walls, exploring how he feels.

“I-I don’t really like how things feel on my prostate,” Seungmin breathes, sounding prettily ruined already. “So you don’t have to try and find it or anything.”

Chan kisses his inner thigh and slowly pulls his finger out, smiling when he can hear Seungmin take a deep, shuddering breath. “But you still want someone to fuck you?” He asks curiously.

“Yeah, I just like to feel full.” It’s just a sigh, really, when Chan pushes back in deeper, his hand pressing hard against Seungmin’s skin. “A-also it’s not just someone. I want _you_ to fuck me. No one else.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan curses, his movements coming to a stop. “Do you know how hot you are?”

Grinning, Seungmin presses his hips down against Chan’s hand, prompting him to move again. “I think I have a general idea.”

Instead of answering, Chan takes some of the skin on Seungmin’s inner thigh between his teeth and _bites_ , before sucking a mark there. It’s not a place someone at the café could see it, so Chan deems it fine. Seungmin chokes on a moan and clenches his hand tighter, gritting out a small _yes_.

Chan continues to litter the skin of Seungmin’s thighs with tiny bruises as he thrusts a single finger inside of him, quickly adding another when he notices Seungmin moving back against him in small circles.

He pushes them in and lets them rest there as he sucks the soft skin over Seungmin’s balls between his lips, waiting for him to relax again before settling on a gentle rhythm. He’s still so hot around Chan, so beautifully tight it makes him want to rut against the mattress until he can push himself over the edge. It’s a task to fight the urge, but he reminds himself that if he just waits a little longer, he will be in an even nicer position to do so.

Seungmin’s skin has gotten a pretty sheen all over it, his breathing accentuated by small moans every time Chan moves his fingers or bites down on his tender skin. His cock is leaking against his stomach, squeezed tight between his legs and only allowed the smallest amount of friction. It’s making him even more desperate than his general anticipation already does.

A sigh of relief leaves him when Chan pushes three fingers inside, moving them just so, in almost wavelike motions. He knows this feeling well from his own toys, from his bad dragon dildo and the fuck machine he got himself for his twenty-first birthday, but having someone else’s fingers in him, someone else doing things this intimately to him, is making his head swim with emotions he never felt before.

“Think you’re ready?” Chan asks after a little more time, kissing right on Seungmin’s perineum.

Seungmin feels like he never nodded quicker, choking on his spit as he brabbles out a, “Yes, yes please, Channie.”

Carefully pulling out, Chan feels his mouth water again when he sees Seungmin stretched rim, the skin pink and glistening. Maybe another time he can put his tongue to good use there. He hopes he remembers after this, to ask Seungmin. He hopes there even is _something_ after this. But he pushes the unwelcome thought far, _far_ away.

He grabs the tissue Seungmin used to wipe his fingers earlier to clean his own, throwing it to the floor which makes Seungmin wince. He wouldn’t say he’s a cleaning freak or anything, but if it was him tossing the tissue, he’d at least try to hit the bin next to his desk.

Chan however, is way more occupied with ripping a condom off of the strip and tearing it open, which reminds Seungmin of what’s going to happen next. What he wanted to happen ever since Chan and him started talking more at the café.

He doesn’t care about ideas like virginity, and even if he would, he wouldn’t mind losing it to someone he met on a dating app, but to have someone he trusts, even after only knowing him for a short time, feels comforting in a way he didn’t expect it to feel.

It feels strangely intimate too, more so than any time _he_ fucked someone, where it was still close, but never like this. Where Chan’s eyes land on him they are heavy, where he touches Seungmin, his skin burns and sizzles for seconds after. It’s as if there’s a chemistry between them that Seungmin never felt with someone else before, more than just sexual attraction.

He lowers his legs to watch Chan roll the condom on, something so raw and hot about it, it makes a weak whine bubble out of his throat that makes Seungmin feel more than a little embarrassed. He’s used to be in control, not only of his partners, but most importantly of himself. Chan makes him feel like he’s losing every last bit of grip he has on himself. In a good way.

“It will be easier for you if you lay on your stomach,” the older prompts then, a hand wrapped around his cock in a way that shouldn’t look _this_ hot.

Seungmin feels himself blush even further. “As I said, I fuck myself with my toys enough to know what to expect.” He can’t help the dismissive tone that slips into his voice, but Chan’s hand coming to soothingly rub his leg calms him immediately.

“As sexy as it is that you are comparing me to a toy, I’m a living, thinking being and will move differently than when you control your movements yourself…” Chan’s voice is soft and easy, like he’s talking about something much different than what they’re about to do.

Seungmin kind of really wants to kiss Chan, but instead he nods and turns over onto his stomach. Chan grabs a pillow from the head of his bed and slides it under Seungmin’s hips, propping his ass up into an elevated position.

Clutching the duvet, Seungmin shudders when the skirt is lifted up over his ass.

“This is way more embarrassing than the other way around,” he mumbles into the mattress, a part of him hoping Chan won’t hear.

The other drapes himself over Seungmin immediately. “It is, but you’re okay, Seungminnie,” he says soothingly. “Let’s get this off, okay?”

He gently grabs the fabric of Seungmin’s dress and the younger pushes himself up on his arms easily, allowing Chan to slip it over his head and place it next to the bed. Despite wearing less clothes, it makes him feel a tiny bit less vulnerable, because there’s skin directly against his when Chan melts against him, warmth completely engulfing him.

“You feel okay?” Chan asks, again making sure Seungmin is fine and why does _that_ do things to the younger? A soft shudder runs down in his spine and makes him press back against Chan where he can feel his cock rest against his lower back.

“Yeah,” Seungmin assures. “I’m a tiny bit nervous now, but I still want to, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Chan says, kissing him right behind his ear before pushing himself up.

He fetches the bottle of lube from somewhere between the pillows and doesn’t care about warming it up before applying it to his cock. He uses what’s left on his fingers to rub over Seungmin’s hole, feeling him push back and tremble against his digits.

Taking a few grounding breaths, Chan places his knees right next to Seungmin’s, the younger’s legs between his, before pressing the tip of his cock to his rim. “You have to tell me if I need to stop or if it hurts, okay? I’ll be able to go deep in this position, make you feel really full, but if at any point it becomes too much you just have to tell me.”

“O-okay,” Seungmin answers, almost panting in anticipation. “You too, yeah?”

Chan chuckles. “Of course, Seungminnie, I’ll tell you too.”

He runs his cock over Seungmin a few times, to get him used to the feeling of something warm and organic touching him, compared to his toys. It’s Seungmin who pushes his ass out and makes a frustrated noise, urging him on.

With that, Chan guides his tip in slowly, listening to the way Seungmin stops breathing altogether, before relaxing his muscles with a more controlled intake of air. He praises him for it, uses his free hand to gently stroke down his spine.

Slowly but surely, Chan pushes in deeper, stopping every few seconds to give himself some time to breathe and Seungmin a moment to adjust. When he’s about halfway in, he takes his hand away from his cock and plants his palms next to Seungmin’s shoulders, bringing his lips down to press a kiss to the centre of Seungmin’s upper back.

He presses himself in deeper while simultaneously lowering his body, not only filling Seungmin up, but also pushing him further into the mattress and engulfing him in more pure heat where he’s caged in. The younger can feel Chan spread him open, warmth running deeper and deeper as his eyes focus on the way Chan’s arms bulge from holding himself up.

It _is_ different from his toys, he has to admit. It’s warmer, so much warmer, and at the same time softer than most of his dildos and plugs. Chan’s cock twitches too, involuntarily probably, and adds a permanent reminder of what Seungmin is doing, of the first time that another person is pushing into him.

He’s glad that he chose Chan, and that in turn, Chan wanted him too. He’s so gentle, still persistent in the way he keeps pushing Seungmin’s limits, quite literally in spearing him open like no one else ever did. There’s so much connection there, that Seungmin never felt with another partner, much less his toys.

He tells Chan that. “F-feel so close to you right now, Channie, closer than to anyone else before.”

Grinning, Chan can’t help from biting down on Seungmin’s shoulder as he slides in completely, pressed up against Seungmin in every way possible. He’s so incredibly tight, so responsive with every single movement. Chan doubts he’ll be able to hold out long and he hopes Seungmin won’t mind.

Wrapping both arms around Seungmin, albeit awkwardly in their position, Chan pulls the younger against his chest until they’re completely engulfed, more one being than two.

“I feel so close to you too, Seungmin,” he breaths against Seungmin’s ear. “You feel so good, I wish we could just stay like this forever.”

Whining, Seungmin presses himself up against Chan, clutching onto his forearms holding him tight in front of his chest. He somehow gets Chan to slip in even further, deep enough to make Seungmin’s eyes roll back from the intensity of it.

“W-want that too,” he moans. “Want so much from you, with you. J-just want you, Chan.”

The older is trembling from the exhaustion of having to hold back from moving. “You got me, Seungmin. You can have me all you want.”

A moan sounding closer to a hiccup escapes Seungmin’s body, making him move around Chan and both of them gasp at the sudden movement. “M-move, Channie,” he prompts softly, bending his head backwards until he’s panting right into Chan’s ear and Chan’s lips are on his neck.

Brazing himself against the mattress as best as he can while holding Seungmin close to his body, Chan finally gives in to his instincts and pulls out of Seungmin, eliciting a gorgeous, breathless moan that Chan chokes off by thrusting right back into the younger.

He can’t hold his own moans back either, right against Seungmin’s skin as he repeats the motion, slow, painful drags out followed by harsh thrust back inside, harder than he actually wants to go on Seungmin, but only urged on by the sweet noises from him.

It truly goes _deep_ in that position, filling Seungmin up in a way that makes him wonder if he’ll walk around with a constant emptiness after Chan is done with him, if he’ll ever feel like part of him is missing. Truly, it feels like Chan is a part of him, nearly taken away with every backwards pull of his hips, only to fill him with a swift, powerful movement.

Seungmin can’t feel his fingertips anymore, where they’re digging into Chan’s skin, his toes where they’re tangled in his duvet. He can only feel Chan inside of him, moving slow and steady yet so _hard_ it makes Seungmin choke on his spit with every other thrust.

He knows his body is adapting, mending himself to fit Chan, when each plow goes in smoother, when from almost musical moans, the room lights up with the slapping of skin against skin and the wet squelches of lube and condoms, moans and pleas of pure desperation.

His cock is dragging against the fabric of the pillow roughly with each of their movements, giving him some stimulation where Seungmin needs it to be able to come. He’s not far off by any means, and if Chan’s moans and groans and his stuttering movements are anything to go by, he isn’t either.

At some point, his arms retreat from around Seungmin and he plants his feet flat onto the mattress, putting him into a low squatting position over the other. Chan’s hands grip Seungmin’s small waist until his thumbs are nearly touching in the middle and he just _looks_ , watches how his cock disappears in Seungmin’s body, in his pretty, red rim that was so tight just earlier.

He’s doing this, turning Seungmin into a moaning, begging mess. Chan feels all kinds of confident in this position, but also even more kinds of affected.

“I-I can’t much longer,” he somehow gets out, just as he thinks he might come within the next few thrusts.

Seungmin pushes himself up on his elbows and tries his best to look back at Chan, while his body is rocked with the intensity of his thrusts. “Me n-neither,” he says, breaking off into a moan at the end. “T-touch me, Chan. Touch my cock so we can come together.”

In a move that surprises them both, Chan stutters to a halt and slowly pulls out of Seungmin, watching his glistening hole contract around nothing for a few moments. He then grabs the younger by the hip and turns him around onto his back, before ripping the condom off and tossing it to the side.

Chan moves up until he can sit down on Seungmin’s middle and press their cocks together, wrapping a hand around them as best as he can. Seungmin catches on quickly, helping out with his slightly longer fingers and together they rut into their hands in a frantic fashion.

It hits Chan first, hard enough for his eyes to roll back and white spots to burn behind closes lids. He stops the movements of his own fist as he comes all over Seungmin’s stomach in heavy spurts, some flying up to his neck.

Seungmin follows him soon after, rutting himself against Chan’s cock a few more times before tumbling over the edge and making even more of a mess on his own skin. He cries out embarrassingly when he comes, not even caring about it when pure pleasure clouds his mind.

They stay in their position for a bit longer, both catching their breaths before Chan moves to the side to grab something. Seungmin feels loose and spent in the moment the weight of the other’s body is gone, almost dirty and uncomfortable, but it vanishes in the second Chan is back on him.

He keeps his eyes closed as Chan wipes the mess off of his chest, only opening them when the pillow is pulled from under his hips and Chan settles down by Seungmin’s side, half on top of him, with a dreamy grin on his face.

Seungmin is still on his back with his legs slightly spread and he brings a hand between them to touch himself, to feel the way Chan messed him up, in the absolute best possible way. There’s nearly no resistance when he pushes two fingers in just slightly, and he smiles thinking about how he will probably feel it for the rest of the day.

“Happy?” Chan asks, referring to Seungmin’s blissed out face.

Blinking his eyes open, the younger is overwhelmed when he sees Chan so close, almost glowing. “ _Mmh,_ ” he sighs, still smiling and with his throat feeling awfully dry. “ _Verrrrry_. How about you?”

Chan giggles and presses a kiss to Seungmin’s jaw. “I feel very good, Seungmin.”

Overtaken by a sudden wave of emotions, Seungmin closes his eyes and drops his head to the other side, just breathing for a little bit, before opening them again. His maid uniform is laying on the bed, which is weird because he could swear Chan threw it to the ground. Then it dawns on him.

“You did not just use my maid uniform to wipe your cum off of me,” he says, incredulously.

Almost thoughtfully, Chan hums, cuddling himself even closer to Seungmin. “It wasn’t just my cum,” he says, followed by a small yawn. “Was from both of us, remember?”

And yes, Seungmin _does_ remember. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.

-

On Monday Chan comes into the café even more excited than usual to see Seungmin. He’s greeted and taken to his table by Rena, but can hear Lucy ask Seungmin if he managed to finish his tax stuff with the help of Chan. Looking over the counter, Chan can see Seungmin’s eyes widen and his cheeks darken as he stammers out a reply.

“Hey, Rena, could you… could you ask Seungmin to come over for a second?” Chan asks, when Rena is done telling him the daily specials. She grins at him a bit too knowingly.

“Don’t you like any of us other maids, Channie? That seems awfully biased, don’t you think?” She says, giggling at her own joke when Chan tries to come up with a witty reply. “I’ll get him for you.”

She’s gone just like that, and Chan has about half a minute to try and calm himself, practicing the question he wanted to ask Seungmin over and over in his head. He clutches the small bouquet of roses he got behind his back and startles when he hears the familiar sound of heavy shoes thud closer on pastel pink linoleum.

“How can I help you?” Seungmin asks when he comes to Chan’s table, all professional if it wasn’t for the slight hitch in his voice. He’s wearing a different uniform, slightly too small, probably not having managed to clean the other one in time. A wave of heat rushes over Chan’s body.

He takes a last deep breath and pulls the flowers out from behind his back. Distantly he can hear gasps and excited cooing from somewhere in the café.

“Go on a date with me?” Chan says promptly, stumbling over his syllables and not at all saying what he planned to, maybe a tenth of it. Seungmin’s eyes widen a tiny bit but he doesn’t seem to be shocked, not even particularly surprised.

He takes the flowers and brings them to his face, breathing in the sweet scent. “I’m kind of working right now,” he says then, a completely fake pitiful expression on his face. Lucy boos in the back.

“That’s not a no,” Chan replies, grinning hopefully, completely lost for Seungmin.

“It’s not a no,” the younger confirms, shaking his head fondly. “So, what can I bring you today?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments of any kind are appreciated and encouraged.


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